


A Last Hope: Healing

by dogmatix, norcumi



Series: Balance [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AU of an AU of an AU, Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, F/M, GFY, Gen, Original Character(s), Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The slaves are free. Now the hard work begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Last Hope: Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to MoreCivilizedAge, Alyyks, and Flamethrower for betaing! 
> 
> Also many more thanks to Flamethrower, for letting us borrow Rillian and her version of Siri!

“The Old Man’s looking for you.”

Yuna’s shoulders drew in, and her gaze darted around the courtyard. The Old Man wasn’t here yet. Good. Sozur kept walking. Her big brother had a confident walk he didn’t use very often, and it left his lekku swinging behind him. Yuna guessed he was trying to draw attention to himself, giving her a chance to run, and she scowled at his retreating back.

Stupid big brothers and their stupid need to be a hero.

Still. The Old Man was scary. Yuna stood up quickly and walked away from the small food tent. All the kids agreed that out of the people that had rescued them from the slavers, the Old Man was probably a slaver for real. A few of the older kids said he was probably worse than the Bloody Woman, and she’d been one of the ones capturing them.

Yuna still couldn’t decide if the older kids called the human “Bloody” because she’d killed their families, because of her red hair, or just to curse at her. Yuna didn’t think it mattered, but thinking about it was better than thinking about the Old Man being after her.

He was so tall; lean and stern like a villain in a story. His eyes looked sad at first, but she kept catching flashes of anger and something cold that made her want to curl up and hide.

Yuna made it away from the main area without anyone spotting or trying to stop her. She ducked into the battered garage area. The younger Mr. Lars had said that so long as they didn’t touch anything, they could go there, but no one wanted to risk touching something they shouldn’t. She’d be safe there.

The Old Man was in there when she shut the door behind her. She didn’t see him until she turned around and he stepped out from behind an old, battered speeder. She froze, heart in her throat.

The man tilted his head to the side, long gray hair swaying behind him like lekku. “Are you lost, little one?”

“N-no.” She swallowed the urge to bare her teeth at him. “I’m looking for my brother. He said he was going to meet me here.” If the Old Man thought someone would miss her, maybe he wouldn’t do anything?

The Old Man nodded. “I see. Might we talk a bit until he gets here?”

 _No! No no no_. She swallowed again. “Talk about what?”

His dark blue eyes were very, very cold, almost black. “What do you know of the Force?”

Yuna blinked, confused at the weird question. She thought about it for a moment. “Isn’t that...luck? Religion? Something, um, something the Jedi use?”

“Well, it’s true that the Jedi can use it, and some of them treat it like a religion, but no.” The Old Man hesitated, then gestured to an old, rickety bench. “Do you mind if I sit?

Yuna shrugged noncommittally. The Old Man folded himself down and looked at her for a very long moment. “The Force is that which makes up everything. That which lives, that which exists; the Force is within it all.”

“That’s what Mo- That sounds like religion to me.” Yuna said, still suspicious.

For the first time, the Old Man grinned. Yuna was surprised. She didn’t think he had that kind of expression in him, and this was...well, not kind, but–

He didn’t look quite so much like a slaver now.

“Perhaps it is all a matter of perspective. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Qui-Gon Jinn.” The Old Man bowed to her, hands sliding up his sleeves. When he didn’t pull anything out, and just _looked_ at her, Yuna jumped a little.

“Yuna. Yuna Zri.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” He dipped his head again, and she couldn’t stop herself.

“What do you _want_?” She froze for a beat. Then she squeaked and took a step back, ready to run, ready to scream, whatever it took because she’d _seen_ what slavers did, she’d been able to _feel_ what they wanted, and she didn’t want that to happen to her.

The Old Man – she wasn’t willing to call him by the name he’d given her – looked sad. Angry, but the way Poppa di– _had_. Poppa had only looked like that when he’d been angry about something bad. “Just to talk, I swear.”

There was a long moment of silence before Yuna scraped together the defiance to ask,“About _what_?”

“The Force.” The Old Man held up a hand, the patient expression on his face a surprise. “No word games, young one. I’m curious because I used to be a Jedi.”

A Jedi? There were tons of stories about Jedi. They were incredible heroes. “Why did you stop?” Yuna blurted out.

The Old Man looked down at his hands, and it was strange. He didn’t tell Yuna that she wasn’t old enough, or that she wouldn’t understand. Instead, he seemed to be thinking about her question. “The Jedi adhere to – follow – the Light side of the Force. Serenity. Detachment.” He had a funny little smile. “Individual lights in the darkness. Separate, but gathered together in a peaceful garden.”

“What?”

He shook his head and gave her a smile, gentle as one of Momma’s. “I’m sorry. Just...remembering something someone told me once.”

It sounded like a sincere sorry, not like when Sozur was roughhousing and he had to apologize but he didn’t really mean it because he was bigger and older and it couldn’t have hurt _that_ bad. It sounded more like Sozur’s broken sorry, sorry he couldn’t do more, sorry he broke his arm, sorry Momma and Poppa–

Oh. That was why the Old Man was looking like that. “Are you remembering good things, or bad things?” she asked before she thought it through, still a little surprised that unlike everyone she’d ever met, she couldn’t tell what his emotions were.

He looked surprised, then he had that gentle smile again. “Both. It’s always both.” At her frown, he looked her in the eyes. “Even when you were angriest with your family, don’t you still love them? It’s like that.”

That made her feel awkward, and she wasn’t about to cry again, so instead she glared at him. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“I stopped being a Jedi because they use _just_ the Light side of the Force. I and my students use both the Light side, and the Dark.”

“So if the Jedi don’t use it, isn’t that because it’s bad?”

He was already shaking his head. “No, it’s different. Very different. Be that as it may, I wonder if you’ve ever thought about being a Jedi?”

“...that’s silly,” she managed to say. Jedi...Jedi were heroes. They were the people in bedtime stories, not real, not people like her. “How could I be a Jedi?”

“They use the Force.” He said it so matter of fact, like it was simple. Like it all made sense. “They’re more attuned to it than most beings, so they can do all sorts of things. Feel the emotions of others, lift things without touching them.”

Yuna couldn’t breathe, but somehow it squeaked out of her. “Heal?”

From the look he gave her, he knew. He _knew_. “Yes. That as well. You look as if this is familiar.”

She gave him the same look she gave Novee when her little sister said she didn’t know who’d been tickling Yuna. “Can you tell when other people can use the Force?”

He had a small grin. “Sometimes.”

“So you know! You _knew_.”

“Yes.” He looked smug. She almost couldn’t believe what it meant, though. That was...that was _crazy_.

“So you...you think I could be a Jedi?”

 _Now_ he looked guilty. “The Jedi...have some very strange, very stupid rules.”

“So that’s a no.”

He sighed, looking tired. “You’re older than they like to take students. They rarely take anyone older than six, and you’d have to be willing to leave everything and everyone else behind.”

Yuna blinked and pulled back. “You mean, leave Sozur and Novee?”

The Old Man got the angry look again, and nodded. “Initiates’ families continue on with their lives, while the children are raised at the Jedi Temple. Contact isn’t forbidden, but it is rare, and discouraged.”

“No one talks about that,” she said, wondering just what his game was now.

“No,” he sighed, looking old and tired. “It’s not something anyone likes to talk about.” He took a deep breath. “However, that’s one of the reasons my friends and I have started something...similar to the Jedi. Using the Force, training those who are interested.”

Understanding dawned. “Oh.” Yuna crossed her arms, giving the man Momma’s best glare. “You want me to join.”

“I want to make the offer to let you join. Whatever you do is of your own choice. There are some things you ought to know, though. The Jedi believe that just the Light side of the Force is acceptable. As I said, we use both.”

“What’s the difference?”

The Old Man thought for a moment. “Think of the Dark side as fire, and the Light as water. Fire is useful – it keeps us warm when it’s cold, it cooks our food. But fire can also be dangerous – even a candle, if it tips and catches something on fire, could burn down a house, maybe even kill people. Fire itself isn’t evil, but we should always keep an eye on it. Water is useful too, but in a different way – we drink it, we wash clothes and dishes in it. You don’t have to keep an eye on a stream or a well or a bucket of water all the time – it’s just there. And if the bucket tips, well, you have to mop up some water, and that’s all.

“That’s why it’s dangerous for Jedi to use the Dark side. Since they’re not used to being careful with the Light – and they don’t _have_ to be – they don’t know to keep an eye on the Dark, to make sure it doesn’t burn out of control. Like fire, the Dark side isn’t evil, but it is always dangerous.”

“Sooo...If it’s dangerous, why use it?”

“Because sometimes the fuel for it is there, whether we use it or not, whether we _want_ it or not. Because we can do things with the Dark that we can’t do as easily with the Light, or at all. Which would you use to keep wild animals at bay: a burning torch, or a bucket of water?” He gave her a second to think that over, and then continued. “It is possible to just use the Light; that’s what the Jedi do. My students and I use a mix of both, Dark and Light, fire to cook our food, and water to drink, and make things grow.”

“And why is it called Light and Dark? How does that work?”

The Old Man held up his hands, palms flat and up towards the ceiling. “Light emotions,” he declared, hefting one hand. “And Dark.” He held the first hand out towards her, as if to show something within his palm. “Serenity. Distant love. Positive thinking. Righteousness.” He swapped hands. “Anger. Fear. Pain. Grief.”

Yuna looked down, catching one of her lekku and holding on tight as she could stand. “But I feel all those things,” she whispered. “The bad ones.”

“Little one, they are not bad. They are difficult, and they can hurt, but even hurts can be put to use. It is difficult to care for someone, without risking the pain of loss. It’s hard to always look forward, without fearing you will fall. Most Jedi are good people, doing good things. But I think they ignore an essential part of what it means to be– no, I’m sorry.” He sighed and looked down. “I have my beliefs, but my goal is not to feed them to you, nor force them upon you.”

“What, then?” she dared to whisper.

“If you want, you are welcome to join us. Even if you do not want to, we are quite happy to teach you the Light side of your skills, so that you can use the abilities that you have.”

“You are?” she asked hopefully, before catching herself. Good things like this didn’t happen. “What- what would I have to do?”

The Old Man met her eyes, and there was still something a little scary there. “Do not use your abilities to harm innocents. I’d appreciate if you tried to do good with them, but that’s outside the bounds of this agreement.”

She didn’t quite understand that, but it didn’t matter. The important thing was that this sounded real. It wasn’t pretending to be too good to be true.

Yuna crossed her arms and glared. She knew that Sozur worried all the time because they didn’t have anywhere to go or any family left to take them in, and she wasn’t going to lose the rest of her family. “I’ll join, all the way, but my brother and sister stay, too. All three of us, or none of us. No trying to separate us, even if they can’t do what I do!”

He _looked_ at her for a long time, then he nodded. “We will not. If your siblings want something else–”

“I’ll deal with that,” she said, trying to sound older, and as confident as Soz.

Strange, how the Old Man could smile, and it changed his face into something that might, just maybe, be kind. “Just so. Whatever you decide, Yuna Zri.”

* * *

Soz wandered into the workshop, trying to play it cool, but for the most part just desperate to get away from the press of _people_. He’d had quite enough of the crowded conditions on the slave ship, and now that they _could_ move around on their own, no way was he going to stick around for one of the communal meals.

The workshop was empty, and Soz relaxed a bit. It looked like someone had left a repair job half-finished on a work table. His hands itched for something _useful_ to do, and his mother had been a mechanic, had been teaching Sozur how to use her tools ever since Soz could remember.

It felt good, sitting down and taking the time to put pieces back together, swapping some worn out parts for the replacements carelessly left scattered across the table. He wasn’t sure what the motivator would usually be connected to, but he knew what was busted and what was available right there. He did exchange one of the power cells for a larger one from a cabinet of parts, since he could recall Mom complaining for _days_ how the one tended to explode after a few hundred hours of use.

It made him feel better. It made him feel less alone and adrift.

“Nice job.”

Soz yelped and dropped the mechanical bits onto the table, stepping away with hands raised to block or hit or–

Oh. Oh crap. It was the local kid, the weird one with the foul mouth and scary eyes and a freakin’ _lightsaber_. Soz was only here because Yuna had bargained for them, and if the local kid took a dislike to Soz, the human could make a lot of trouble for them.

Then the words registered, and Sozur took another step back. “What?”

The human raised his hands a little before nodding towards the table. “Nice job. You put that back together well. Not sure why you used a different cell, but.” He shrugged and grinned. “It’s pretty clear you know what you’re doing. I’m Ani.”

“Sozur,” he said curtly. “And that cell explodes after awhile.”

Ani frowned and gave the part an evil look, then his eyes widened. “Oh! Wow. No, that was two revs earlier. Those things were bad news. Nobody trusts that type of cell anymore _because_ of the problems, but this batch is reliable _and_ cheap. Also, it’s vaporator parts. That crap breaks down all the time no matter whatcha do, ’cause getting water on Tatooine is like that. Good eye, though. How’d you hear about that?”

Sozur stood still for a moment, feeling like an idiot. The human didn’t sound like he wanted to make trouble, though, and it wasn’t like there was any harm in it.

Slowly at first, Sozur talked. About Mom and her repair-work. About Dad, and their home. Ani started putting something else mechanical together, passing parts to Soz without any warning or explanation. It was a challenge, and Sozur wasn’t about to back down from it. He could figure out what went where easily enough, and by the time he was talking about the slaver raid, he could pretend that the motivator he was slotting together required all his attention, so that bending over them and crying wasn’t weird or noticeable.

He was surprised when there was a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Hey.” Ani’s voice was soft, awkward. “You, uh, want a hug or something? I mean, no is fine. Just…that’s rough. That sucks.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because it sucks. People shouldn’t lose their family.” Sozur dared to glance up, and he was grateful that the human wasn’t looking at him. Ani was looking away, expression sad. Ani shrugged. “Why _wouldn’t_ I care?”

Soz sat for a quiet, painful moment, then he shrugged as well.

The human hugging him made Sozur cry more, but it didn’t feel quite so bad.

* * *

“Am I going to have to fight for your affections?”

Owen looked up, baffled as to what Beru might mean. His girlfriend was leaning against the doorframe, trying very hard to keep a huge grin in check. At his blank look, the smirk grew. She nodded past him, and Owen turned to see a Twi’lek duck behind a growing-table.

He fought back a groan. “Novee?” he called, feeling exhausted already. It had been a week, and he was still trying to come to terms with his new shadow. “Kiddo, c’mon out from there.” The little green youngling shuffled into view cautiously. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” Owen said, beckoning Novee closer.

Beru smiled and crouched down as the youngling edged closer. “Hi Novee. I’m Beru Whitesun. I’m Owen’s friend.”

Owen winced. Novee had decided for gods knew what reason that he was her favorite, he could not begin to imagine the melodrama to arise when the kid found out he might already have a favorite girl.

Kids.

“You are?” Novee’s face lit up and she beamed as Beru nodded. “Then you must be a really nice person!” The kid sounded like she’d just discovered spaceflight all on her own, and Beru was a central part of the process. “May I hug you?”

Beru laughed. “Of course!” Owen shook his head as the Twi’lek tackled his girlfriend, babbling away in her own language with a gleeful smile.

“Honey, no, slow down, I speak Basic and Huttese and that’s not either of them. I can understand you if you use those, or if you teach me Twi’leki.”

“You’d want to?” Then the youngling started speaking Twi'leki again, slow and exaggerated like the humans who were the worst sort of tourists.

Owen, who had no head for languages and knew it, looked at Beru in bafflement. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

The grin he got was impish. “Making friends. She’s just adorable.”

“She already has a family,” he whispered back, because he _knew_ that look, and he _knew_ it was trouble.

“I know.” His girlfriend gave him a touch of a glare. “I’m not adopting her, I’m making friends.”

“Friends?” Novee asked, eyes wide.

“Yup. You want to be my friend too?” Beru grinned.

“Yes!” Novee shouted, flinging her arms around Beru’s neck.

Owen stared at the Twi’lek nestling close to his girlfriend, then he sighed. “Is this what being a parent is like?”

“Half terrified, totally confused? You’ll have to ask Cliegg that.”

He shook his head. “No way. Dad’ll give me an answer.”

* * *

Cliegg was motioning her closer. Siri brought the cluster of durasteel rebar forward, not quite sure which was making her shake; the heat of Tatooine’s morning, or the use of the Force, right at the edges of her ability. Cliegg’s hands went up, then patted the air a few times. Siri let the cluster settle to the ground – gently, not at all like her first attempt which had ended in a clattering explosion. She stepped back with a deep sigh of relief, swiping a sleeve across her forehead. When Cliegg finished securing the rebar, he strolled over and passed her a canteen.

Water, which surprised her a little, but she nodded her thanks, and made sure not to gulp the liquid down. They passed it back and forth awhile, taking in the construction site. They were laying the groundwork for a sizable compound – living quarters, kitchens, work and practice areas, even a hall. Most of the buildings would be burrowed out of the hard-packed earth, which was a common practice on sun-drenched Tatooine – underground areas stayed cool longer during the baking heat of day, and kept their heat while the desert sands cooled rapidly after nightfall. It was designed to be defensible but comfortable, and big enough for not just them but the ever-increasing list of beings Qui-Gon and Yoda were starting to put together.

Maybe more, if they wanted to be ambitious. Siri suspected that they did not, since the larger the group, the more attention they would get, and that was the last thing any of them wanted. Jinn kept going on about quiet lives, and she was all for that.

Cliegg kept the canteen and raised a brow, glancing over at the last pile of building materials that needed to be moved into place. Siri took a deep breath, reaching up to gather her hair back into its tail. Tatooine’s suns seemed to be bleaching the red dye out of it faster than she expected. It was leaving behind a paler blonde than she was used to, but it felt like one more sign that this was a different life, a different _her_ , and it was okay to show that. She gave a firm nod and reached for the duracrete mix, trusting that Cliegg would be in place by the time she’d turned towards him with the load that would be needed at the far side of the new compound.

It felt so damn _good_. Lightsaber a solid weight at her hip. The good ache through her body of hard work both physical and with the Force. The feel of the Lars farm to her right, alight with playful younglings and her fellow Shades.

Someone dependable, solid, and patient, waiting for her to do her job, safe at her back.

* * *

The sound of Qui-Gon laughing was a surprise. Rillian grinned and hurried away from the shuttle, coming out of the garage area to find Qui-Gon sprawled in the open courtyard, a pile of younglings draped atop him. She couldn’t tell if they were trying to wrestle him to the ground, or tickle him, but all seemed amused enough by the matter.

[Do you need a hand?] she asked, using the Force to catch a youngling’s boot that would have clobbered another in the head. The Wookiee lifted the whole child up and deposited him off to the side, only to snigger as he turned and raced back into the fray.

‘ _I am fine, padawan, thank you_ ,’ he managed to send, mental voice sparking with good humor. Between the two of them, they managed to keep anyone from being too injured as matters devolved into a free-for-all wrestling match.

When Shmi and one of the older foundlings arrived to declare dinner ready, the courtyard cleared in a flash, leaving Rillian and Qui-Gon behind. The human remained on the ground for a moment, rare good humor softening his face and making him look younger than Rillian could recall seeing him. He sat up with a grunt, wincing a little as he put a hand along his ribs. “Vicious little hoodlums,” he chuckled, accepting Rillian’s hand up.

[Did you get kicked there, or tickled too much?]

“They were enthusiastic enough that it’s rather hard to tell the difference.” When Qui-Gon let go of her hand, he took the opportunity to scruffle her hair, earning a laugh and a light shove. The two went and sat on the stairs, enjoying what was now a rare moment of quiet.

“Did all the younglings find their families?” Qui-Gon asked, voice quiet and serious. They’d been able to contact only three of the six younglings’ relatives or caretakers ahead of time, though the other three had been insistent that they could find their families. Things seldom went perfectly to plan, however.

[Not Cha’dre, but Damien’s uncle was willing to take hir in. They all seemed happy enough with the situation.]

He nodded, looking relieved. “That’s another half dozen down. I’m glad it wasn’t another incident like Ritu.”

Rillian chuffed. [You didn’t have to be on the shuttle for the flight back!]

He gave her an apologetic smile, which she returned with a friendly nudge of the shoulder. Ah, good; some gestures of affection still surprised him. She did it again, this time remaining leaned up against him. [We need to find some place for these kids.]

“Mm. I’m a little surprised Shmi hasn’t threatened to boot us all out yet.”

[You keep paying for it, so that helps.]

He snickered. “I suppose it does, at that.” After another long moment of silence, he sighed. “What of you, padawan? Are you happy here, or do you regret your choice?”

He jumped a little at her laugh. [I didn’t think when I signed up to use the Dark side that I’d be spending weeks ferrying traumatized younglings back to their relatives, but no, no regrets. I like it here!] Qui-Gon smiled again, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. [What about you? Is this the life you want?]

There was quite a long silence, Qui-Gon staring off into the distance. Rillian had almost decided he’d chosen to brood instead of talk when he turned to give her a tiny, wry smile. “It is indeed the life I’ve picked, but I’m starting to think I don’t have regrets, after all. That...is quite the strange set of affairs.”

[Good,] she purred, nudging close again.

* * *

Shmi stopped and took a deep breath for patience. She shut the kitchen area door with a firm click, then planted her hands on her hips and _glared_ at the resident troublemaker. “Master Yoda, _what_ are you doing?”

The wide-eyed look of innocence she got would have far better fit one of the younglings – the littlest of their foundlings – who floated in the air above the little green being’s head. “Entertaining the children, I am.”

“Can’t you do that with them on the ground?”

Yoda didn’t even have a chance to defend himself as a chorus of protests rose up from the younglings. Shmi let them have a moment, then laughed and held up her hands in surrender. “All right, all right, then at least go do it _elsewhere_. I’m trying to cook here!”

She watched the group amble down towards the former guest quarters, Yoda informing the younglings of her right to her kitchen and how they’d better be on their best behavior. For the most part, the younglings just made shuttle and starfighter noises, breaking into giggles as they sometimes rose and fell a little in the air.

Shmi retreated into her kitchen, shaking her head. She was willing to accept help with meal preparation occasionally, but she needed someplace to herself in the crowded homestead, and the kitchen was _hers_. It was sweet that the others respected that as if she were one of the ones waving a lightsaber around.

Lightsabers. Jedi. She chuckled and started to pull supplies for the meal. Her life was an absolute mess compared to the neat, quasi-ordinary routine she’d had a few months ago. Keeping several dozen former slave children healthy and in one piece was no small task. The others helped, of course, but they also had their own tasks – building the new compound, locating the relatives or other caretakers of the children, even practicing the Force. That last one might not sound urgent, but with several Force-users new to using the Dark side, practice was mandatory, not optional. All of which added up to a chaotic, energetic mess that not even Ani could have produced alone.

Truth be told, though, she didn’t miss the sedate pace of moisture farming. It felt good to be doing something useful, to help people.

Cliegg had nailed it, when he’d declared the others family. She couldn’t recall the last time she was quite so content.

 _Lives change_ , she reminded herself, starting to mix together food. _Don’t let change overwhelm you_. Shmi breathed deep, daring to smile. She was busier than she remembered being in quite some time. She was content. Home was noisy, overcrowded, and expanding.

Not a bad thing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Norcumi's note: Yuna, Sozur, and Novee are all very distantly based upon WoW characters, used with permission of their player. Many thanks, sirrah, for letting me borrow some alts. I can only hope to do justice to their awesomeness. /salute
> 
> Dogmatix has some art of Yuna! It's also [HERE](http://dogmatix.tumblr.com/post/114460085338/and-here-we-have-an-oc-thatll-actually-show-up) on tumblr: 


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